In Kentucky, tucked away unnoticed in a quaint cemetery was a grave. It was poor and freshly done, the name roughly carved into its stone flesh. What no one knew however, was that the grave itself was empty beneath the tombstone. And that the individual sitting before it, had come once again, tracing the name with her fingertips, crutches at her side. She had traced it so many times she had memorized it.

Here lies Katherine Calloway. May you rest in peace. June 8, 1979 - August 24, 2008. There was an urn resting on the base of the grave, a very ugly one. Brown and plain, no designs. No name. And filled with ash and probably some bits of charcoal leftover from the fire they had been gathered from. No one ever visited this grave, other than her. There had been no funeral given for the young woman when she passed away, and no pictures provided or even so much as an obituary.

Which was probably just as well, considering that Kat Calloway was still alive. Only, no one knew it. Other than her perhaps. She sighed softly, tracing the letters once more as she tried to recall what had happened nearly seven months ago. Gingerly, she touched her injured leg. She couldn't remember everything that had happened, just that when she woke up she was in some state hospital and the name she was going by wasn't one of her usual aliases. And the weirdest thing of all? A woman by the name of Margaret Hyra had dropped her off and had the medical insurance billed to her. The weird thing about that was that Margaret Hyra was the birth name of actress Meg Ryan and Kat knew that Meg Ryan was her mother's favorite actress. Considering that, it seemed likely that Janine had been behind saving her.

But how had her mother even known what was going on? Kat reluctantly decided that it didn't matter. She had bigger things to worry about, such as whether she would ever be able to walk again without a limp. She got back up on her feet, relying on her crutches. Her name wasn't Kat anymore. It was April May, and she was looking forward to April with more passion than she could explain. She was stuck in this town without a car, renting a motel room and paying for it with the part-time work she got at the cemetery. In addition to that were the medical bills that "Margaret Hyra" was still paying for. And the drugs. Both of which were invaluable considering that Kat had no way of paying for them. She was in physical therapy, stubbornly trying to make her leg work again and to make sure that it worked right under a physician's close eye. She couldn't overdo it, or she would risk making everything worse.

There was nothing she wanted more than to leave this town. But with no car, no money and no way to drive or work properly, she couldn't. She was stuck in this small Kentucky town, acting like some shy school girl because suddenly everyone knew her name and could only stop by a million and one times to make sure she was okay. Kat hated it more than she could ever say. She wanted everyone to mind their own business. She was fine on her own. But there was value in acting differently.

Since her stay in the hospital, she had chopped her too-long hair off and it was only just starting to get back to the length it was before. She also had more time that she was used to having, to spend on her hair and found herself keeping it more orderly than she had ever done. The exception being working any cases where she needed to seduce the man or look professional. Usually tying her hair back worked just fine, but now she found that it was part of her new identity. April May was a very quiet individual. Even if on the inside she was burning with a half a dozen insults and the impatience of a fiery, somewhat violent woman.

She was just hobbling away when she heard the gate creak open. She kept hobbling, out from the little churchyard cemetery. What a weird place for someone to bury her in the first place. Kat was by far very distant from religion. Being buried in the shadow of a church was just about the last place she wanted her body to be. Which, considering the fact that she wasn't dead, was probably a very good thing.

Better Than I Know Myself

It was early morning when Alyssa woke up to the sound of a hushed conversation. Sleepily she rolled over, just able to make out the outline of Sam's figure crouched over as he hissed back a response to his cell phone. The fact that there was no light seeping in through the blinds was enough to tell her that it was unusually early for this sort of thing to be happening.

"Look I don't care-" Sam hissed back.

Blearily Alyssa mumbled out, "Sam?"

"Call you later," he hung up abruptly. "Go back to bed Aly."

"No," she argued, sitting up. "I'm your friend Sam, you can't just order me around. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" she repeated disbelievingly. "Who were you on the phone with? Why are you even keeping secrets from Dean?"

Sam scowled. "You're my friend Alyssa, I don't owe you any explanations."

"I'm worried about you, Goddammit!"

"No you're not," came his harsh response. "You're just jealous! I don't love you Alyssa, not romantically at least. I never have and I never will and you need to get over it already! I've moved on with someone else and she is nothing like you. Your little crush has been cute and all, but get over it already. If you want to stick around, you can stay out of my business."

Numbly, Alyssa stared at the ceiling as the ache in her heart spread and tears swelled to her eyes. She rolled out of bed quicker than she knew she could, grabbing her jacket, throwing her shoes on and walking out of the building. She had no idea how long she walked, or where she walked to, but all of a sudden she was aware that she couldn't breathe and there were harsh sobs trying to tear themselves free as the tears seemed to roll endlessly down her cheeks. She couldn't have said what hurt more. The stinging, brutal rejection of her feelings or that the Sam she was trying to save wasn't the same man she had ever loved or been friends with. He had the name and the walk, the same face and everything, but… losing Dean had a done a number on him.

By the time the sun was rising, Alyssa had gathered herself well enough to walk back towards her motel room. She didn't want to see Sam, or have anything to do with him. Even if she was supposed to be the only one who could save him, she didn't really believe that she would be able to do anything productive in that regard. Sam was… gone. But gone in what sense? Had he really changed into this unrecognizable person who was so ruthless and mean? If she was supposed to save him, then what did that mean? Was she supposed to save him from his own self or from something else? That angel hadn't been very specific.

A small part of her grabbed onto that desperate, last shred of hope. That there was something else going on, because the man she loved, wasn't such a tyrant as he had been this morning. She swallowed tightly. What if he was? If he was… then she had nothing left to do with her life except… move on. She had been trying, but it was impossible when demons were on her tail all the time. If she disappeared entirely, and lost all contact with Sam, then maybe they wouldn't be interested in her anymore. But for now, she had to try and do something at the very least.

She was halfway back to the motel when she glanced over to admire the small church. It was classical and cute, a little piece of enduring time and in the shadow of the steeple there was a small graveyard. As the sun was making its way higher in the sky, from the corner of her eye she caught a metallic glint. She glanced over, stunned to see that there was a young woman kneeling in front of a grave, her brilliant red hair cut neat and short with a silver hairpiece keeping it from her face. She noticed the crutches beside the woman and entered the small graveyard, wondering about the woman. Injured people didn't usually spend their time in cemeteries; the loss must still be quite recent for her.

"Hey," she said softly, as she moved towards the woman.

Shock stabbed deep into Alyssa when the other woman turned to look back at her. It was… Kat. But that wasn't… Kat was supposed to be dead. Clearly, there was a nasty misunderstanding with that. But then why hadn't she stepped forward to clarify that she was alive? Would that just make everything more convoluted and unnecessary or what, exactly?

"You can't tell anyone!" she hissed. "How'd you even…?"

"I-I didn't. I just… thought you needed help."

"I don't. I'm fine, I'm alive. Sam's on his own, healthy, good as can be. Thank you, goodbye."

"But Ka-"

"It's April," she corrected tersely. "That woman is dead." She touched the grave once more, indicating the name.

"Okay… April. Why do you have crutches?"

"It's none of your business, okay? And it's… it's better if you just go."

Alyssa faltered. "Dean's alive. And Sam isn't… something's up with Sam."

Kat barked a laugh. "Yeah, he's screwing a fucking demon and who-knows-what-else. Good for him, he can take a nice little trip to Hell. Sure, Dean's back, what'd he do? Walk out of Hell's Gate 'cos if he did, he ain't one of us."

"Angels," Alyssa blurted it out. "The angels saved him."

Kat laughed, turning to look at her. "Seriously? What are you -high? Angels don't exist."

"They do," Alyssa insisted. "And Dean really is back. Sam knows it's him and so does Bobby. So if you want any proof, you can ask them."

"Ask them?" she snorted. "Yeah right. I'm dead as far as anyone's concerned. Let me guess; Sam never told Dean, so Dean thinks I just ran off with the next basket case I meant and said screw you Winchesters? Or is he walking around thinking that I totally screwed him over when I abandoned Sam?"

"What happened to you?" Alyssa asked softly, looking at Kat pityingly. She wasn't the same woman she had been seven months ago, that was for sure.

"I got my ass handed to me! I fucking died! I don't know if I'll -look, it doesn't matter. I can't help. You looking for me to help you? Because I can't even help myself. Don't tell either of them. Sure, they deserve to know, but not while I'm like this. And you want help with Sam, right? Get him away from that demon bitch of his. And stay out of her way -she'll tear you to pieces."

Kat got to her feet, mindful of her foot, using her crutches to assist her. "Don't tell them. Good luck." And she limped away.

Alyssa watched her walk away before glancing at what would have been her grave. She frowned and then followed after Kat. She had a few more questions, and then she would leave the other woman alone as she wanted but this… she had to know.

"K-April!" she called, as she caught up to her.

Kat shot her a dirty look. "Did you miss the part of leave me alone?"

"I must have," Alyssa replied cheerily. "Can you tell me what happened? How do you know that that's what Sam's up to?"

"Because I met the bitch? All high and mighty, acting like she was Sam's girlfriend and then she beat the shit out of me, alright? I don't know what all happened, it doesn't really matter anyways. I'm dead and she isn't and I can't help you with Sam."

"You have to know more about this stuff than I do. I heard that you grew up in this life as much as the Winchesters did."

"What's your point?"

"Help me. Train me, teach me… whatever you can. Ellen and Jo have been helping me, but I mean… there has to be something I can do to save Sam right?"

Kat smirked bitterly. "Loving those boys from the sidelines doesn't help anyone, does it? Least of all them." She sighed. "I'm not in any condition to teach you. Ellen's probably done enough of a job to keep you alive. You know a lot about demons?"

"A bit. They've only been chasing me for the last four years."

"Hm. Give me your number." She stopped awkwardly, fishing out her cell phone and putting Alyssa's number in it. "I'll send you a few tips. Feel free to call once you have my number. Ellen isn't incompetent. Neither is Jo, but she's a rookie. You probably have the basic survival skills…" Kat paused, surveying Alyssa. "But a demon like the one hanging around Sam? For someone like you, you need to catch her by surprise. And that won't be easy. But it's your best chance. Don't let Sam out of your sight for ten minutes. I don't know what he was up to, but… what he could be up to… but he's working with that demon."

"Didn't you work with one before? I remember hearing about her, ah, Ruby wasn't it?"

"No choice. Devil's deal to save Dean, right? I listened because there was a chance. I don't know what happened to her, I don't know if she's the one stalking Sam or not. It doesn't matter. No demon is a good demon, even Ruby. Exorcise her and your problem will be dealt with, alright?"

Alyssa nodded, taking Katherine's number down under the alias of April. "You should know… Dean's looking for you. Or, well, to find out what happened to you."

"He won't find me," Kat responded, smiling sadly. "I covered my tracks. I don't want him to know, okay? It's… It's gotta be better like this."

Alyssa reluctantly nodded, agreeing to Kat's unusual request before she started back to the motel. A part of her was honestly surprised to see that Sam was still there, looking worried and apologetic. He even gave her a hug. But it didn't make things any better between the two of them. Especially considering the fact that when he went for a shower, she snuck a look at his phone to see who he had been calling. There was no name listed, but Alyssa typed it out in her phone and passed it onto Kat. Maybe they could figure out who it was, it might help.

It was two in the morning when she got Kat's reply. Her phone gave a rumble from under her pillow and with exhaustion, she pulled it out to look. Jane Doe, the bitch who killed me.

Apparently, Kat wasn't a wordy person. But that was okay. The text told her what she needed to know and she deleted their conversation. So the person Sam kept calling for so incessantly… was a demon. Everything he'd said earlier was a lie. And if that was a lie, then what else had he been lying about? She wasn't so sure that she wanted to know. But a part of her had to know. She had no reason to not believe the angel Castiel, when he told her that she was the only one who could save Sam. If she was… then she was going to do her best. And not only because that was just what the angel had said, but because she could even see that there was something wrong with Sam.

Dean stopped at the edge of the cemetery, watching as the red-haired woman limped away on her crutches. If she thought he couldn't find her, then she was sorely mistaken. He looked down at the slip of paper with Katherine Calloway's plot number and walked over to the grave that she had just left. He crouched down.

Here lies Katherine Calloway. May you rest in peace. June 8, 1979 - August 24, 2008

She wasn't dead. As far as he could tell, anyways. He looked up at the figure moving away. Someone had died, but the coroner and maybe a police officer or two had falsified some reports to make it seem like she really was dead. But what was the point of that? It didn't look like Kat was out hunting. What was the significance of playing dead, unless someone was out to get her of course? It was mostly for that reason that Dean didn't follow her. It was mostly because he didn't want to screw things up for her, considering that she thought he was dead. It was probably better that way, that he died and she would never know that he was alive. She wouldn't have to worry about a million things and she would never have to deal with someone like him again.

After what he had done... forty years in Hell had really changed the way he saw the world. Had seven months of physical rehabilitation done the same for her? He set the yellow rose down on the grave, a little card tucked under the bud. Cheesy and pathetic. "Get well soon!" Useless. But, maybe she would see it. And then what? Probably take off running in the other direction. All the better, since if Dean knew Sam could figure it out. And if they knew, demons could find her. And angels. God, hopefully the sons of bitches kept out of her life and her head.

If this was what she wanted, then Dean was willing to let her have it. Freedom, normalcy... Things hunters never got. But this wasn't Kat Calloway. Katherine Calloway was cremated. Nothing left of her. No. April May was the one left walking topside. And honestly, she really could have thought of a better name. But creativity had never Kat's forte. Maybe April would find some it, bring it bursting to the top. The most creative Kat ever got was when she took a gun out and fired enough bullet holes into the target that it could have been a flower. And then she shot that until there was nothing tangible left.

Kat wasn't creative. But she was resourceful and she was a survivor. At least she was still alive. But with that sprain... there was a possibility that complications could arise. She needed to stay here and recover and not push too hard for anything and risk re-injuring it. Dean looked at the grave once more before turning away and walking back to the Impala. It was time to get back to saving the world. Sam was probably going to be pissed but Dean didn't care. Sam had no right to try and hide something like this from him.

What did he think it would do? Send him crashing into despair? Or distract him? Because it hadn't. He felt more focused than he had in awhile. They had to stop the Apocalypse. He closed his eyes, sighing as he snapped his cell phone battery back into place. The world just couldn't wait. There were five messages, four from Sam with either pleads or threats, and one really strange call from Cas. He phoned Sam back, telling him he'd pick him up and they'd be off to go and find Cas since something weird was going on with the angel.